


By The Light Of The Moon

by thefooliam



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 09:38:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5962627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefooliam/pseuds/thefooliam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're friends but nobody knows they're friends </p><p>(Doctor!AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	By The Light Of The Moon

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the Lord Huron song “Time to Run”

People think she’s weird but Brittany loves hormonal pregnant ladies.

 

They’re her favorite people and she’s not sure what she’d do if she ever had to go more than a week without seeing one. They’re neurotic, overly passionate and panicked and she doesn’t know what it is but she seems to be blessed with the gift to charm the pants off them (quite literally in the case of some of her more shy patients) and settle all their worries.

 

She gets to help ladies meet the tiny humans they spent so much time and effort making and it’s the best job in the world.

 

She’s also kind of kick ass at it.

 

//

 

A page at 3am on her night off can only mean one thing and Brittany doesn’t pause as she climbs from her bed and straight into her sweats. She grabs everything she needs from where it’s ready by the front door and isn’t even tired by the time that she’s speeding into her parking spot at the hospital.

 

The adrenaline’s pumping and for about the millionth time, she remembers why she picked medical school against the wishes of all her undergrad MIT professors. Physics never gave her this rush.

 

She grins all the way to the ward and only stops when she sees the last face that she expected to see. It’s the first time she’s paused since her pager went off and she takes a deep, steadying breath as she gathers all the energy she has.

 

“Dr. Lopez,” she says as she steps into the ward. She’s in her favorite purple scrubs and she instantly regrets wearing them the minute she sees Dr. Lopez stood at the nurses’ station. When Dr. Lopez sees them, she rolls her eyes. “I got a page. How can I help?”

 

“Deborah Benson,” Dr. Lopez says briskly. She shoves a patient chart towards her and Brittany glances over it quickly before tucking it under her arm. Dr. Lopez looks at her with disgust before shaking her head and walking away.

 

Brittany rolls her eyes and follows after her.

 

//

 

Deborah Benson has been transferred in due to complications in her pregnancy. She’s twenty-six weeks pregnant and Brittany’s not entirely sure how she’s lasted this long without coming to the hospital. They rush her to the OR within minutes of Brittany examining her because they need to get her baby out.

 

Her team of scrub nurses know exactly how she likes everything and once Mrs. Benson is under, they turn on Brittany’s playlist much to the disgust of Dr. Lopez who stands opposite her readying for the tiny patient waiting inside Mrs. Benson’s uterus.

 

Brittany ignores it because she’s good at that. She knows she has some silly habits but she knows what she likes and what she needs and she’s not ashamed of that. Being this good at her job has afforded her some benefits. Her reputation of being somewhat odd and full of whimsy preceded her to her position here at the Cleveland Clinic and that somehow lowers the expectations of people who don’t know her.

 

But Brittany doesn’t understand how Dr. Santana Lopez can be so judgmental when the reputation that precedes _her_ is even worse. She’s a pediatrician. Her dad is a retired neurosurgeon but he won his fair share of medical awards in his day. Her cardio-goddess mother did too but apparently Santana’s kind of struggled to step into their shoes. Everyone knows that she’s slept with all the nurses on almost every floor but her own. They know not to go into the sixth floor on call room because that’s where she takes all her conquests. She’s standoffish always and acts like everyone but her is incompetent. Brittany hasn’t really worked with her that much—mostly through avoidance (because she struggles to work around negative people like that), and she doesn’t want to mess up if Lopez is as bad as everyone says—but they’ve talked after a delivery or two and shared an email about a mutual patient and that’s about it.

 

Brittany’s always as civil as possible but, now she’s actually working with Dr. Lopez in person, she kind of gets what everyone means.

 

“Dr. Pierce, her BP is rising,” she interjects as Brittany hums along to her favorite song. She doesn’t respond and she can see out of the corner of her eye how Lopez shifts uncomfortably. She’s quiet for a few more minutes before— “Dr. Pierce,” she says warningly. “Your patient’s blood pressure is still rising.”

 

Brittany looks up at her and smiles as much as she can behind her scrub mask. “I’m aware. Thank you, Dr. Lopez.”

 

She’s sure that Lopez is grinding her teeth beneath her own mask. She stands there for a few more moments watching Brittany carefully take her time before she interjects again.

 

“Dr. Pierce, if you took more than a sparing glance at your patient’s chart, you would know that she has a history of—”

 

“She had an aneurysm, Dr. Lopez,” Brittany says softly. “I’m aware. I have a photographic memory. I only need a ‘ _sparing glance’_. However, with this condition, we expect some increase in blood pressure.”

 

Lopez just stares and Brittany can feel her eyes on her as she breaks the amniotic sac and reaches inside for the precious cargo. She feels ridiculously angry for the first time as she pulls the baby from its mother. She glances up at Dr. Lopez as Mrs. Benson’s pressure drops when she instantly begins to bleed out as expected. Dr. Lopez takes the baby from her and Brittany works on autopilot as she repairs Mrs. Benson’s body, all the while waiting for a baby’s cry.

 

It’s her favorite sound and the longer it takes the more anxious she becomes.

 

And it’s not until she glances up at Dr. Lopez that she even understands why the hospital has tolerated such an asshole taking care of _children_ this long. She’s working quicker and harder than anyone else surrounding the baby, grabbing everything herself and moving so fast that no one barely even notices what she’s doing. Everyone else is unnecessary.

 

Brittany’s never witnessed anything like it.

 

Dr. Lopez works stubbornly and Brittany’s never seen someone so reluctant to give up, no matter what the people around her are saying about survival rates and slowly decreasing chances. It must have been too many minutes but she ignores them all and when Baby Boy Benson lets out the sweetest cry, Brittany laughs, impressed and annoyed all at once.

 

 

//

 

She finds her after, checking the baby’s vitals in the NICU.

 

“You did good in there,” she says, expecting another eye roll or snarky comment.

 

However, Dr. Lopez looks startled to see her and barely glances up at her.

 

“Thank you,” she mumbles quietly. There’s a pause before she speaks again. “I’m sorry for insinuating that you didn’t care.”

 

Brittany laughs at that. “You insinuated that I was _lazy_ , not that I didn’t care, but it’s okay. I’ve heard worse things from people.”

 

Dr. Lopez looks up at her and there’s a glint in her eye and a quirk at her lips. Brittany grins and tugs on the ends of the stethoscope around her neck. The weird pause doesn’t feel awkward but there’s something else she can’t name that makes her feel like she needs to leave.

 

“Good night, Dr. Lopez,” she says softly.

 

She feels the woman watching her the whole way out of the room.

 

“Good morning, Dr. Pierce,” she hears called back to her.

 

//

 

It’s weird how things change after that.

 

Before, Dr. Lopez would barely talk to her. They could be standing at the nurses’ station and they would never talk to each other unless they shared a mutual case.

 

Now, Brittany finds that Dr. Lopez talks to her nearly every time they see each other. She’ll ask her what she’s working on if they see each other at the nurses’ station. She’ll ask her if she needs help if they run into each other at the ER. She offers to hold her spot in the cafeteria line when Brittany forgets to get something.

 

“Where are you from?” Dr. Lopez asks her one night, when they’re both on night shifts and the doctor’s lounge on the fourth floor is not-so surprisingly empty.

 

Brittany looks up from her charts and narrows her eyes in confusion that Dr. Lopez is even talking to her. Usually, when they both find themselves stuck in here at 3am, they don’t say a word. She also finds it weird that, after eighteen months of working in the same hospital, Dr. Lopez only wants to know about her now.

 

“Santa Fe,” she says after a weird, too-long pause. “New Mexico.”

 

Dr. Lopez nods. “And what brings you to the Cleveland Clinic?”

 

Brittany smiles at how she hunches over her own charts like an awkward, surly teenager. “I met the Chief of Surgery in New York and he offered me a job.”

 

“You worked in New York?” Lopez asks and there’s a brightness and excitement to her eyes.

 

Brittany shakes her head. “It was some conference thing. I’ve mostly worked in Boston.”

 

“Where’d you study?”

 

Brittany shrugs and rolls her eyes. “I started off at MIT as a Physics major. Switched to Bio and Chem when I got bored. Harvard for medical school. Internship and residency at Mass Gen. I went to Brigham and Women’s after that for a while and then I came here.”

 

Dr. Lopez looks at her in complete shock or awe or something. Brittany blushes and rolls her eyes self-consciously as she looks back down at the papers in front of her.

 

“Wow,” Lopez says, clearing her throat. “I never knew that. That’s… that’s really impressive.”

 

Brittany shrugs. “I don’t really tell many people.” There’s another one of those strange pauses where they both attempt to not stare at each other. “You went to Hopkins though, right?” Lopez nods. “That’s cool.”

 

They’re saved from any more weird moments a few seconds later when Brittany’s pager goes off. She rolls her eyes and smiles and feels Dr. Lopez watching her the whole way out of the room.

 

//

 

She kind of thinks they’re friends.

 

They always seem to be the only two people using the fourth floor doctor’s lounge in the middle of the night and their hours of silent waiting have turned into constant questioning and conversation.

 

She didn’t think anything of it until she called her “Dr. Lopez” one night and the woman threw a chip at her, scoffing before telling her to call her Santana.

 

After almost two years of calling her Dr. Lopez, it’s kind of weird but she likes it. She likes it because everyone else still calls her Dr. Lopez. They share middle of the night “lunches” and end up watching reruns of Spanish telenovelas that Santana barely understands while Brittany does.

 

They’re friends but nobody knows they’re friends.

 

She has to listen to nurses and other doctors whisper about how much of a “slutty bitch” Santana is but she doesn’t know if she can say anything. She doesn’t know how Santana would feel about it. After talking to her for weeks, Brittany kind of thinks that she perpetuates her reputation to keep everyone else away.

 

When she remembers that Santana wanted to let her in, it makes her feel strange. Fluttery and flattered.

 

Santana goes from grouchy to grinning at the sight of her as she rounds the corner into the empty corridor outside the doctor’s lounge and Brittany doesn’t understand it.

 

//

 

Brittany doesn’t feel like she truly understands Santana until they lose Baby Lauer.

 

They’re called into the ER at 1:27am on a Saturday night and they both instantly know what they’re getting when their pagers go off at the same time. They rush to the ER together, waiting for each other, and Brittany can’t help but wonder why.

 

They get to trauma one to find Dr. Noah Puckerman inside. Doctors Fabray and Jones work alongside him to get the woman on the table stable. Brittany reaches for a pair of gloves and an apron as Santana moves to the opposite side of the table across from her doing the same.

 

“Am I glad to see you ladies,” Puckerman says as the machines around them beep and chirp erratically. “Molly Lauer. Nineteen years-old and twenty-two weeks pregnant. Head on car collision. Her husband reported to us that Mrs. Lauer removed her seat belt due to an anxiety attack. He was checking to see that she was okay when a car ran a red light and hit them.” He looks up at them gravely. “Doesn’t look good.”

 

Brittany balks at what she sees. The woman is a mess and has undoubtedly been through the front of the car. Her hands move automatically, examining the woman on autopilot as Santana does the same across the table. She’s got that stubborn look in her eye that Brittany knows means she’ll go to the ends of the earth to make sure this woman and her child make it through. It unnerves her because, from what she can see, it doesn’t look possible.

 

“We need to get that baby out,” Santana says, wrapping her stethoscope around her neck. Everyone looks at her like she’s crazy but Brittany can’t help but wonder why Santana’s here at all if they didn’t think that was a possibility.

 

“Lopez, she’s only twenty-two weeks,” Puckerman says and Santana looks hopefully up at Brittany. Brittany gives her a look and briefly wonders when they started communicating in expressions. “Pierce?”

 

Brittany continues to run the ultrasound probe across the woman’s stomach. From the looks of it, the placenta is shot to pieces. There’s internal bleeding and the baby’s heart rate has dropped lower than what they’d like. She wants to give up but Santana looks at her and she grits her jaw before nodding.

 

“We need to get her to surgery. Let me see what I can do.”

 

//

 

She won’t stop losing blood. They must have replaced most of her blood volume by now but it won’t stop. There are five surgeons with hands buried in her body and Santana diligently assists all of them as she waits to see if she’ll be needed.

 

“Dr. Pierce, I think we need to deliver and do our best from there,” she says but Brittany feels spurred by her own stubbornness. Her hands work quicker than she thought they could, taking instruments from Santana and the scrub nurses around her. She ignores everything and keeps working but the blood won’t stop. It just won’t stop. “Britt, come on, we need to deliver or we’re going to lose them both.”

 

Her voice is softer than most of them are probably familiar with considering how frantic her words are but Brittany doesn’t stop until Santana’s hand is on hers and it’s handing her what she needs to deliver the baby.

 

She only barely pauses to take the instrument from her.

 

The baby barely fits in her hands and she’s handing it over to Santana wordlessly as she carries on repairing Mrs. Lauer. There’s no noise but Brittany isn’t really expecting any. Nurses and interns surround Santana as they work on getting the baby breathing and pumping her full of the things she needs. All Brittany can think about is the blood.

 

They’ve lost so much blood.

 

Her hands work instinctively as they move inside of Mrs. Lauer’s abdomen, wondering if she’ll ever be able to have another child if anything happens to this one. There’s so much damage, so much blood loss it should probably be impossible. It urges her to work harder and she gets the bleeding under control enough to close her up.

 

She knows there’s definite damage but she can deal with that later. She’s just glad to have everything under control enough that she can give her colleagues working at different parts of her body a better chance.

 

She leaves them after instructing a resident to finish suturing Mrs. Lauer’s incision. She rips off her gloves and gown as she goes to towards the chaos that surrounds Santana. She’s shouting at nurses to make sure they preserve the cord, hollering at people to get her more drugs, more equipment.

 

“Is she breathing yet?” Brittany asks as everyone makes way for her. Sugar, her favorite scrub nurse replaces her gown and slips her stethoscope into her hands. Brittany instantly presses it to the baby’s unmoving chest and looks up at Santana to find her face ashen with worry. “How long has it been?”

 

“Too long,” she hears someone mutter.

 

The room goes momentarily silent before—

 

“Get the hell out,” Santana spits at the crowd behind her and Brittany watches as someone wordlessly skulks out. She starts shouting her own instructions to the people around them but nothing she does seems to help. Time keeps drifting on and Mrs. Lauer seems to be doing better behind them. All eyes are mostly on their corner of the room but the only action comes from Brittany and Santana. Everyone else stopped long ago but Brittany knows she won’t stop until Santana does.

 

It’s Dr. Jones that somehow manages to force the room into calm. She calls across to them and the sound of her voice jolts something in Santana that Brittany can’t help but notice. Her hands falter and she glances up to ensure she’s paying attention.

 

“Lopez, you’ve done everything you can,” Dr. Jones says calmly. “There’s nothing more you can do. You have gone above and beyond what anyone expected but you need to think about this. Are you going to make those people’s lives any better? Are you just trying to delay the inevitable? What future does this baby have?”

 

Santana still works slowly but Brittany just keeps the baby’s body still for her as she adamantly shakes her head in refusal.

 

“I know you hate losing,” Dr. Jones goes on. “But this is not a reflection on you. This is not your fault.”

 

A whimper of exhaustion leaves Santana’s mouth and Brittany looks up at her as she shakes her head. She can hear her muttering “just shut up, just shut up” under her breath and ignoring the words as she keeps working, increasing with vigor and speed to try and bring the baby to life. The entire room is silent apart from Santana’s grunts of struggle and desperation. Brittany can actually see her breaking and she lets her hand turn over and grab Santana’s wrist without even really thinking about it. All it does is slow her down.

 

“Santana, it’s time to stop,” she whispers and, just like that, her hands fall away from the baby’s body. Brittany quickly takes them in her own.

 

She looks up at Brittany with eyes so angry they’re full of tears. She continues to grip her fingers until Santana brushes her away and shakes her head.

 

“Time of death: 4:03am,” she whispers before tugging off her gloves and leaving the room.

 

//

 

Brittany follows her without thinking, still in half her surgical gear as she moves lower through the hospital until they arrive at the basement.

 

It’s lined with old beds and Santana doesn’t stop until she reaches an old supply closet and walks inside. Brittany’s never been down here but she instantly hears a crash of a supply cart being pulled over and things being thrown around the room. She stands in the doorway and watches as Santana growls and cries with uncontrollable rage.

 

She practically destroys the room until the anger falls away to leave the despair behind. She sobs unlike Brittany ever thought she could, face lax and shoulders dropped brokenly. She notices Brittany for the first time and looks at her like she’s never really seen her before.

 

“I couldn’t save her,” she whimpers and Brittany can’t help it; she takes the two steps it takes to get to her and gathers her up in her arms.

 

She lets her hands press into the soft parts of Santana’s back, pulls her as close as possible before squeezing her as much as she can. She presses her cheek to the side of Santana’s head and sighs hopelessly as her hand strokes back escaped hairs from Santana’s scrub cap. She pulls it off a moment later, unable to refrain from the overwhelming need to tangle her hands through the thick hair at the back of Santana’s head.

 

“You did everything you could,” she whispers as Santana falls apart against her chest. “You were unbelievable.”

 

She cries even harder but Brittany doesn’t let go. She’s done many things, but nothing makes her feel prouder than being the one who holds Santana’s million pieces together.

 

//

 

Brittany goes with her to tell the husband. He’s in a bed in the ER and all Brittany can remember is how Santana had looked at her as she’d wiped the tears from her eyes and cleaned her face.

 

She seems smaller, now.

 

They stand side by side as they introduce themselves to Mr. Lauer. He looks at them hopefully and Brittany notices that Santana stares at a spot on the wall above his head to keep her composure.

 

“Mr. Lauer,” she says robotically and that’s the way they’re taught to tell people. “Your wife is still currently in surgery. She received serious injuries to her abdomen, head and chest. She has a broken leg and a fractured pelvis. When she arrived there was bleeding within her uterus and it became clear that immediate action needed to be taken. Dr. Pierce made all attempts to prevent preterm delivery of your baby but at 2:37 this morning, your wife gave birth to a daughter…”

 

Brittany turns to Santana as she stops speaking and watches as she drifts back into that sad place, unable to speak as she instantly turns to look at her shoes. They’re still covered in their weird surgical booties.

 

Brittany clears her throat and continues for her.

 

“Despite our best efforts,” she begins. “Myself, Dr. Lopez and our team were unable to get your daughter’s heart to start. We announced her death after almost ninety minutes of resuscitation. We’re so sorry for your loss.”

 

The man looks at them like he doesn’t understand before breaking down and mumbling about his wife and how he’s going to tell her.

 

Santana apologizes and leaves the room. Brittany lets her go alone. She doesn’t think she wants to be followed.

 

//

 

She doesn’t see Santana for days after the death of Baby Lauer and Brittany can’t help but think that she’s being avoided.

 

She goes to the fourth floor doctors’ lounge at the usual times but Santana’s never there. She sees her sometimes in the ER but their paths don’t cross for long enough that Brittany can ask her how she is.

 

She kind of misses her and it’s the weirdest feeling. She’s been away from her family for so long now that she barely feels the ache of missing them anymore. But this feels like the emptiest burn, like something’s _wrong_ , and she finds Santana skulking in the corridor outside that same supply closet two weeks after they were last here and tugs her inside before closing the door.

 

“Listen, did I do something wrong?” she demands as Santana shrinks in a way that Brittany would have never expected. She diverts her eyes and Brittany watches her as she swallows and frowns.

 

Her cheeks are pink but every other bit of color has almost drained from her face. She shakes her head before looking up.

 

“You haven’t done anything,” she finally says quietly. “But my behavior here the night we lost Baby Lauer was completely unprofessional. I should have never put you in that position and I can only apologize and promise that it’ll never happen again. I would understand if you needed some separation between us.”

 

Brittany looks at her and wants to smile so hard. She does, letting it slip slowly onto her face as she moves closer and wraps her arms around Santana’s neck. She stiffens immediately but Brittany just holds her and giggles into her ear.

 

“You’re such a dork,” she whispers into her hair. Santana’s body softens and Brittany sighs when hands reach to grip at her hips. “You never have to apologize for that,” she tells her seriously. “You’re my friend.”

Santana stiffens again almost imperceptibly. Brittany feels it because they’re so close and Santana must too because she pulls away and steps back. There’s a deeper pinkness to her cheeks and she clears her throat as she glances curiously up at Brittany.

 

Brittany stares curiously back because everything feels heavier and more serious now. Her cheeks start to burn up and the feeling is familiar but she’s not sure if she wants to feel it. She kind of hopes that it’s just a glitch, that maybe she’s just tired.

 

The feeling just gets worse the longer Santana looks at her. She can’t handle it.

 

“I’ll see you tonight?” she asks with as much normalness as she can. She needs to get away.

 

Santana nods dumbly and Brittany leaves her there. She feels her staring the whole way down the hall.

 

The feeling is still there the next morning when she wakes up.

 

//

 

It’s a big task but she’s watched it done before. It wasn’t successful and there’s a survival rate of only five percent but she knows she can do it.

 

She _has_ to do it because there’s no other choice.

 

It will never be as simple as operating to fix the problem but they have a plan. She and Santana have a plan and they believe in their plan. It took them weeks to tweak it to ensure that it would have a better chance of success but it’s going to work. She can feel it. No one believes them—everyone thinks that they’re _crazy_ —but she knows that they’re going to give these parents a baby.

 

Chief Sylvester makes them tell her the plan two dozen times before she’ll even sign off on letting them do it, but when she does she smiles and tells them that she admires their ambition. She tells them to make sure they rest beforehand because they have no idea how many hours it’ll be except that it’ll be probably more than fifteen.

 

They both agree that they’ll never be able to sleep before something like this, but somehow end up sharing the same bunk in an on call room and talking about the procedure for hours.

 

They wake up to the sound of someone banging on the door, calling their names to alert them that it’s time. Brittany jolts awake but settles quickly when she feels familiar arms around her waist. They hold her tight and there’s a definite feel of a drool patch on her left shoulder from where someone’s nuzzled into it. She sinks into the feel of it shamelessly, allowing her body to feel the comfort it’s craved for so long. Her body softens back into a daze that abruptly ends the second she remembers whose arms it is around her.

 

It causes adrenaline to pump quickly through her veins and she takes a deep breath in before quietly tapping the hands around her middle.

 

Santana buries her face further into Brittany’s back before stopping when she realizes who she’s with and what she’s doing. She stiffens quickly and Brittany doesn’t give her any chance to feel awkward. She gently strokes Santana’s forearm and lets out a sleepy groan.

 

“Showtime,” she whispers, closing her eyes.

 

Santana’s body softens immediately. Her forehead falls back against Brittany’s back and Brittany can’t help but feel the smile that stretches happily against her shoulder.

 

They lay there for another fifteen minutes.

 

//

 

Brittany knows that she shouldn’t be thinking about the way that Santana felt pressed up against her body when she’s wrist deep in a woman’s uterus but she can’t help it.

 

Ever since that night when Santana cried in the supply closet, things have been so weird. On the surface, nothing’s changed. They still meet each other in the fourth floor doctors’ lounge except now there’s some new guy from oncology who keeps trying to flirt with them so they usually end up in the supply closet instead.

 

It’s kind of like… their place or something, and just thinking about it makes Brittany feel all weird and fluttery. She feels like some intern, hiding from her attending to avoid doing all the crappy work except she _is_ the attending. She’s the Head of Obstetrics, Gynecology and Neonatal Medicine and she has so much freaking work to do except she somehow manages to spend half her time at the hospital watching Santana sit on the floor of a supply closet because she’s too damn awkward to sit on the bed with her.

 

Nothing’s changed but it feels different. Brittany _feels_ different and sometimes Santana looks at her and makes her think that she feels different too. They smile at each other for longer, sometimes staring at each other for long moments until one of them has to look away. It’s not _normal_ and Brittany would think nothing of it if they didn’t find it necessary to escape from everyone else just so they could keep doing it.

 

“You okay, Britt?” Sugar whispers to her as she passes her more gauze. Brittany looks up at her and nods quickly, feeling weirdly caught. Sugar smiles and squeezes her elbow. “You’re doing great.”

 

When Brittany looks back, she finds Santana looking at them curiously, her eyes weirdly sad and disappointed. It makes Brittany want to say something but she can’t so instead she continues what she’s doing.

 

//

 

Things get rough around Hour Nine but by Hour Ten, they’ve got everything under control again.

 

The chief pokes her head in around Hour Twelve and watches them for twenty minutes before grinning noticeably beneath her scrub mask.

 

“Looking good, ladies,” she whispers.

 

Brittany catches Santana’s eye once she’s left and they’re so deep and black that Brittany swears she almost drowns in them.

 

//

 

Eighteen hours, thirty-seven minutes and twenty-three seconds is what the timer clock tells them when they reach a successful end to their surgery.

 

There’s a baby on it’s way to the NICU with a good outlook, and a mother who tried for fifteen years to have a baby who will probably get to see her daughter grow up happy and healthy.

 

The entire OR and the gallery above them stands and bursts into applause the minute they declare the surgery over and Brittany looks over at Santana and can’t help but feel a million things at once.

 

“You were amazing,” she tells her when they’re back in the scrub room. She doesn’t look at her but she feels Santana’s eyes bore into her cheek as she rinses the suds from her arms.

 

She shakes her head and laughs. “You were,” Santana breathes in disbelief. “I couldn’t have done that with anyone else. You were amazing… You were _brilliant_.”

 

She laughs and Brittany turns to her in wonderment to find the same wonderment staring back at her. Santana bites her lip and shakes her head, overwhelmed. She visibly takes a moment to center herself before speaking.

 

“You’re a genius, Britt,” she whispers.

 

Something drops deep into Brittany’s stomach and her eyes instantly drift down from Santana’s dark eyes to her lips. She stares for a moment before clearing her throat and reaching for a towel to dry her hands.

 

It’s still in her hands when she reaches over to tangle her fingers with Santana’s. Brown eyes study her in confusion and all Brittany can do is smile reassuringly as she makes her only request.

 

“Come with me.”

 

//

 

She takes her to the supply closet and closes the door behind them but that’s mostly so that she can back her up against it.

 

The action makes Santana gasp and arch into her and Brittany’s entire body trembles as she attempts to understand all these new feelings she’s suddenly realizing.

 

And what she realizes most is that they don’t really feel new at all.

 

“Britt…” Santana whispers and Brittany hovers in the in-between space separating them, not sure what she wants to do. She’s seconds away from pushing back and apologizing when Santana reaches up and grips hard at her shoulder blades to keep her close.

 

It’s the only permission she needs and their mouths clash together not a second later. They both moan at the contact and Brittany’s hands tremble as they reach to gently hold Santana’s cheeks. Fingers grip at her back, and Brittany groans when their hips press together. She breaks away, panting into Santana’s mouth as they study each other for more reassurance. Their noses press together and Santana’s never looked so scared or nervous. It awakens a primal need inside of Brittany that she can’t understand and she sighs as she sinks back into the softness of Santana’s lips to kiss it away.

 

It all feels like a blur after that. Everything moves faster than Brittany would normally like but she can’t help herself. She feels like she’s been waiting for this forever. Santana sinks into the door as Brittany’s tongue slips into her mouth and Brittany has to press against her just to keep her upright. She acts without thinking and loves the way that Santana grunts into her mouth when she reaches down to pick her up.

 

Thighs squeeze at her waist as Brittany carries her over to the rickety old hospital bed against the wall. Brittany cradles Santana’s head as she lowers them both onto it, tugging at the tie in her hair until her fingers are drowned in soft dark hair. Her body ends up cradled in Santana’s pelvis and she lets her mouth drift to kiss Santana’s neck as her hands wander and explore her body.

 

She tries to slow down but before she can realize, they’re both topless and her mouth is buried in Santana’s cleavage. Both her hands squeeze and stroke Santana’s breasts, feeling the weight of them against her palms as her teeth nip at the sweetest skin she’s ever tasted. Santana’s breath labors and hitches with each action she takes and it’s too much but she can’t stop. As much as she wants to, she doesn’t ever think she’ll be able to.

 

She hasn’t been with anyone in such a long time—since before she and Santana even started talking—but she doesn’t think that has anything to do with this desperation. She’s _never_ felt like this before.

 

It’s scary and overwhelming but it weirdly makes her feel safe. Normally, she’d be worried that her mouth is already sucking Santana’s nipples when she hasn’t even taken her shoes off yet. She’d be worried that Santana’s hands have started to shove down her scrub pants to grip at her ass and that they’re doing this and haven’t been out for dinner first. Normally, she’d be concerned as to the appropriateness of them doing this at work when they should probably be talking to their patient but, instead, all she can think about is never stopping tasting Santana’s skin.

 

“Your mouth,” Santana pants as she pulls Brittany away from her chest and back to her lips. Her hands frame Brittany’s face and their tongues tangle languidly. “God, your mouth…”

 

Brittany bites her lip and doesn’t think about anything as she pushes up to lean on one hand. Her hand traces down Santana’s breastbone, nails scraping at her abdomen before she finds the drawstring of Santana’s pants and loosens it quickly.

 

It takes seconds before Santana’s naked beneath her, everything discarded on the floor beside them. Brittany struggles out of her own clothes as brown eyes stare at her hungrily. Her hands lay sprawled across her abdomen and Brittany watches as goose bumps rise over her skin. She presses their bodies together the minute her last sock hits the floor and loves the way that Santana groans in her ear.

 

They kiss for what feels like forever, hands wandering each other’s bodies shamelessly. There’s no talking, only soft sounds and gentle moans. Brittany can’t get over the feel of Santana’s hands in her hair and they kiss at each other’s throats, nose burying into each other’s skin as Brittany decides she can’t wait anymore and slips her hand down Santana’s body.

 

Her fingers slip through soft, wet folds and the way that Santana gasps while her hands fly out and tremble in the air almost makes Brittany want to giggle. She kisses her instead, soft, gentle pecks that calm her down before slipping her tongue into her mouth at the same time that fingers glide gently and easily inside of her.

 

Santana groans and shudders, reaching desperately for her. Her body writhes beneath Brittany and all Brittany can realize, as Santana’s legs wrap around her waist, is that sex has never felt like this before. It’s never felt comfortable and safe and right. It’s been fun and a nice way to spend time with someone, but it’s never felt like she was giving someone everything she has. It never felt like she was losing a part of her soul.

 

Santana’s eyes flutter open and trembling hands reach for her face. Thumbs sweep over her skin and Brittany can’t _not_ look at her. Her previous opinion that watching people during sex is kind of weird is instantly abandoned as she realizes that she never wants to not have sex like this again.

 

“I’m gonna…” Santana whimpers as her eyes flutter warningly. “I’m gonna…”

 

Brittany kisses her because she can’t think of anything she’d want more if the rolls were reversed. It must help because Santana moans into her mouth, every part of her tightening and shuddering against Brittany for long, wonderful moments. Teeth bite down on her bottom lip so hard that it hurts but she doesn’t care. It feels too good to care.

 

Instead, she just kisses Santana until she softens and doesn’t let go.

 

//

 

They lay in silence waiting for Santana to calm down. Their legs remain tangled as Brittany lays beside her, watching her breathe and admiring the way that her breasts move with each inhale and exhale.

 

Her hand presses low against Santana’s pelvis and if she concentrates she can still feel the soft tightening of the muscles inside of her. Her skin is cool, clammy and warm all at once and she reaches up to grab a hospital issue blanket from the shelf beside her. She lays it over them before settling back with her mouth at Santana’s shoulder.

 

She wants to say something but she doesn’t know what so she just lays in silence, waiting for Santana to make the next move. She stares up at the ceiling and Brittany plays with the cross hanging around her neck as she waits.

 

She expects words and excuses or maybe for Santana to just sit up and reach for her clothes. She reasons that those are what the rumors tell her so why wouldn’t it be true. Why would she be different?

 

She waits and what she gets catches her off guard considering.

 

Santana turns onto her side and instantly reaches to stroke her cheek. She looks at her curiously and it makes Brittany gulp and tilt her chin back in absolute submission. She grips at Santana’s hip and when Santana leans in to kiss her again after long, long moments of waiting, it feels better than everything else.

 

Santana handles her like she’s delicate and precious. She presses her back against the wall behind her until she’s gasping from the cool of it against her skin. She kisses her deeper and better than before, tongue exploring her mouth so expertly that Brittany thinks she might be searching for the words they can’t say. Her hands stroke Brittany’s skin like she’s been doing it her entire life, finding every patch and spot that makes Brittany shiver and moan helplessly.

 

She reaches down until she can pull Brittany’s leg up around her waist and then reaches down between them. There’s no preamble, no build up. It’s like she knows that Brittany can’t, won’t— _doesn’t want to_ —take anymore. Her fingers slip through her, drawing tight circles around her clit that make her body tangle into tight knots. She’s so wound up that there’s part of her that thinks that she might be coming then and there but Santana’s fingers are slipping inside of her and she forgets everything.

 

Sounds escape her thoughtlessly and Santana presses their noses together as Brittany struggles to rock into her ministrations. She’s trapped between the wall and Santana and the contrast of warmth and cold does little to calm her down. She pants into Santana’s mouth, happy to see that her desperation seems to be doing something to Santana too. She looks just as frantic and, when her hand stops, Brittany cries out as her spare hand wraps around Brittany’s back to pull her atop her.

 

And it feels better then. Her body sinks onto Santana’s fingers with a groan as she straddles her hips. She can feel them deeper inside of her and she needs no encouragement to instantly start rocking and riding against them. Her arms worm around Santana’s neck to keep them as close together as possible. Breaths pant from her sharply with each jut of her hips and thrust of Santana’s fingers and she can feel everything. Her body feels like it’s on fire, struck by lighting. Her muscles ache, her body sears with pleasure, but all she really wants is for Santana to never let her go.

 

“Oh my god,” she pants and Santana watches her in awe, guiding their mouths back together. She kisses her lips, her cheeks, her chin and Brittany almost sobs because she never wants this to end. She never wants Santana to stop looking at her and it all feels too much. Her hand curls around the back of Santana’s neck and all it takes is for Santana to kiss her nose and she’s coming, coming, coming so hard that it feels like it’ll never end.

 

And when she immerges from it out the other side many moments later, Santana’s still kissing her as the soft waves of pleasure continue to lap at her skin. She rolls them over and presses her back against the wall. Her fingers are gentle as she pulls one blanket around them and reaches for another but Brittany won’t stop shivering and it seems to confuse her.

 

She kisses her neck and Brittany doesn’t get how she can’t see it.

 

Her heart feels like an open window, like every thing she feels is on display but Santana can’t see it as she presses against her and buries her face in her neck.

 

Brittany’s arms wrap around Santana’s body and cling to her, hoping she can feel it instead.

 

//

 

They don’t talk about it.

 

They hold each other and drift half to sleep as their hands explore each other. They don’t say anything and Brittany thinks that, perhaps, that tells them more than words might ever do. The silence feels like it’s screaming at them and when their pagers start going off, she’s almost glad for the excuse to escape.

 

They get dressed in silence, searching through piles of clothing to find their own, and check each other over to make sure they both look okay.

 

There’s an awkward moment before they leave the room and Santana smiles and glances down at Brittany’s lips before Brittany reaches for the door handle.

 

“We should go,” she whispers but Santana’s hand stops her.

 

She leans over and gently cups Brittany’s cheek and Brittany can’t help but smile and gasp when Santana moves forward to gently press their lips together.

 

It lasts seconds but by the time that Brittany opens her eyes, Santana’s already halfway to the stairwell.

 

//

 

When the Chief asks them where they’ve been, they both quickly lie and tell her that they were making notes to ensure their accuracy when they publish. She’s so excited about their success that she doesn’t even question why they’ve been gone for two hours.

 

They share a look and Brittany’s still so wound up that she’s glad when Santana says she’s going to go check on the baby.

 

She gives her an awkward wave and drops down in one of the chairs at the nurses’ station just so that she can try and concentrate.

 

She’s realizing that she doesn’t do this sort of stuff at work purely for this reason when a figure looms over the counter in front of her. She glances up to find Sugar staring at her, holding her white coat and stethoscope.

 

“You left these in the scrub room,” she says and there’s a knowing lilt to her voice that Brittany hates. Brittany watches her until she waggles her eyebrows and leaves.

 

It makes Brittany laugh but still, she buries her head in her hands and curses herself for being so reckless.

 

//

 

They kind of avoid being alone with each other until two days later when the chief tells them that she wants their first draft ready by Friday.

 

They meet in the usual place and when the weird oncology guy starts hitting on them again, Santana just groans and gathers her things before dragging Brittany to her office. It’s messy and Brittany laughs as Santana gathers everything together on her desk and dumps it on the empty bookshelf behind her. She falls into her big plushy desk chair and leans over to boot up her computer.

 

Brittany barely looks at her for a few seconds, reclining back in her chair, before she decides that she can’t take it anymore. She steps over to her and leans down to kiss her until Santana squeaks in surprised happiness.

 

She pushes Brittany back by the shoulders to put some space between them and bites her lip as Brittany stays holding onto the arms of the chair.

 

“We _really_ need to get this thing done,” she whispers as Brittany nudges their noses together. She can already tell that Santana’s going to give in because she’s already grabbing the backs of Brittany’s thighs to bring her closer.

 

She kisses her again, not stopping until Santana’s trying to pull her into the chair.

 

“I’m not getting anything done until this is out of my system,” Brittany whispers seductively and can feel Santana’s eyes on her as she turns to lock the door and make sure the blinds are all closed. She takes off her white coat and strips down to her bra before dropping to her knees and reaching for the waistband of Santana’s scrubs.

 

Brown eyes watch her silently and curiously the whole time and, when Brittany reaches to tug Santana’s ass to the edge of the chair, she barely makes a sound. Her breath is steady but deep. She gasps when Brittany’s mouth lowers to her clit and they don’t stop until they’re both naked under Santana’s desk, covered in their white coats for warmth.

 

They write between orgasms. The incentive gets their first draft to the chief by Thursday morning.

 

//

 

They still don’t talk about it but they don’t stop.

 

Their normal night shift routine changes from questioning and staring at each other for hours to remaining naked and sated until their pagers go off.

 

Brittany wishes that she could stop because it’s really not professional and it’s really not the reputation that she wants to have forever, but she can’t. One look at Santana and she’s bowled over, head over heels and desperate for her. She’s dragged her to bathrooms and on call rooms and supply closets and there’s a part of her that thinks everyone knows but she hasn’t heard anything.

 

Santana smiles and fucks her at work but still looks at her curious and confused like she doesn’t understand what they’re doing. There’s a part of Brittany that thinks that she’s just going to become a part of the ongoing story about Santana. She’s worried that she’s going to become part of a rumor, that her reputation will cease to be that she’s one of the leading surgeons in the world and will become that she was just another woman who had her heart broken by Santana Lopez.

 

And the most ridiculous thing is that Brittany doesn’t care. She’s in so deep that she’s waiting for the inevitable but she still can’t step away.

 

She’s supposed to be a smart woman but how can she be when she’s being so reckless with her career, her reputation, her _heart_? It doesn’t make sense but then Santana kisses her as she comes and holds her so tightly that it hurts and Brittany doesn’t want it to make sense.

 

She just wants to stay like this.

 

She’s completely and totally head-over-heels in love with Santana Lopez and she doesn’t care that it’ll end up with hurt and ruin.

 

She just wants to stay like this.

 

//

 

There’s a new rumor every week.

 

Last week, Santana was sleeping with the new radiologist. The week before that the girl from the pharmacy was closing up early just so that she and Santana could fuck against the shelves. There’s always a long line of nurses that she’s still taking into the sixth floor on call room.

 

(It’s the only room in the hospital Brittany won’t drag Santana to.)

 

Santana’s apparently sleeping with everyone but her and Brittany doesn’t know how she feels about it. All she knows is that every time Santana kisses her nose and tells her she’ll see her later, she’s left wondering whose nose she’ll be kissing in the mean time.

 

It’s destroying her heart but she can’t stop, she can’t _speak_. All she can do is wait and hope that Santana keeps coming back.

 

//

 

It’s been six months and, if she’s honest, she’s not sure she can keep it up anymore.

 

She sees Santana talking to a nurse and she gets jealous. She sees her talking to patients’ mothers and wives and starts wondering if she’s ever dragged one of them to the sixth floor on call room before.

 

She thinks she might be a little crazy but there’s nothing she can do because she wants to have as much of Santana as she can before everything goes wrong.

 

It isn’t until she sees Santana coming out of one of the supply closets near the ER with Sugar that she can’t take it anymore. Her body starts shaking and, when she goes into surgery with Sugar later that afternoon, she barely talks to her and almost loses her patient because she’s so angry.

 

Sugar finds her after and grabs her by the elbow to drag them into Brittany’s office. Brittany pulls back sharply and glares at Sugar.

 

“I should have you reported to the chief for this behavior,” she says ridiculously and Sugar looks at her sadly because they’re friends. Sugar was the first friend Brittany made at the hospital and now she’s treating her like crap for no reason. “This is—this is so inappropriate…”

 

She’s not sure who she’s talking to anymore.

 

“Britt, what’s going on with you?” Sugar asks shaking her head around a sigh. “You’ve been off for weeks and now you’re ignoring me? What gives?”

 

Brittany drags off her white coat and puts her hands on her hips before taking deep breaths. She doesn’t want to cry but she thinks she might have to if she wants this feeling to go away. She paces in short distances around her office before stopping and swallowing thickly.

 

“Have you ever slept with Santana?”

 

Sugar frowns as her eyes bug out of her head. “Lopez? No, why?”

 

The first tear escapes and Brittany wipes it away quickly. Sugar sighs and grabs her to stop her.

 

“Britt, what’s going on?”

 

Her shoulders slump and she takes a deep breath in. “Do you know if any of the other nurses are sleeping with her or anything?”

 

Sugar sighs knowingly and shakes her head in realization. She reaches up to wipe the tears from Brittany’s cheeks and smiles at her fondly.

 

“Honestly?” Sugar says softly. “As far as I know, the only nurse that Santana’s actually slept with is Elaine from neurology and she is one crazy bitch ass ho. She’s pretty much single-handedly ruined that poor woman’s reputation and it’s been like… four years or some other ridiculous amount of time…”

 

Brittany smiles and takes deep breaths to calm down as relief fills her body. Sugar keeps stroking away the tears and sighs at her.

 

“You’re absolutely hopeless, you know?” Brittany narrows her eyes. “The pair of you. I don’t know how anybody hasn’t figured you two out yet. After all these years of ignoring and not giving a shit about anyone, now all Santana Lopez asks for and about is _you_. You’re the only person in this hospital other than her patients that she has the smallest interest in and you can’t even see it. It’s not just sex, is it?”

 

Brittany sighs despondently and falls into her chair.

 

“Sugar, I don’t…” she starts and shrugs. “I don’t know what we’re doing. It’s been six months and we’re still just fucking around the hospital. I don’t know what this is.”

 

Sugar pulls herself to sit on her desk. “What do you want it to be?”

 

Brittany shakes her head and wipes her cheeks subconsciously. “I want to take her out for dinner. I want to take her _home_ with me and I want to actually be able to spend the night with her without our pagers going off every five seconds. I want everyone to know that—that she’s not mad and she’s not grumpy and she’s not a bitch. She’s funny and kind and caring and _stubborn._ I want to come to work holding her hand and let everyone know that the only person she’s with is _me_.”

 

“And what does she want this to be?”

 

Brittany stares at her blankly. Sugar raises an eyebrow.

 

“Have you talked to her about this _at all_?”

 

Brittany shrugs awkwardly and stares at her hands. “I didn’t want to force her into anything… I didn’t want to make her think I’ve got the wrong idea or…”

 

Sugar hops off her desk unexpectedly, rolling her eyes.

 

“Then I’m done talking about this,” she says, pushing Brittany in her chair until she spins. “Woman up and talk to each other about this and actually find yourself something to mope about or I’m just going keep calling you a pussy until you do.”

 

Brittany pouts. “Sugar…”

 

Sugar opens the door and steps out before looking back at her.

 

“Pussy,” she says.

 

Brittany sighs.

 

//

 

She doesn’t see Santana until later that evening when she’s heading out of the hospital. Santana’s still in her scrubs and she steels herself to maybe ask her if she wants to get a drink if Santana’s heading home too.

 

“Hey,” she says and Santana doesn’t jump when Brittany presses a hand to her back, in fact she kind of softens into it. The smile she gives Brittany when she turns to her makes her feel like she’s the sun and the moon and the stars. “You heading out?”

 

Santana instantly rolls her eyes. “They needed someone to cover the ER tonight so not yet. I’m off tomorrow though, so… not so bad.”

 

Brittany feels disappointment ebb inside of her as the adrenaline that had been building starts to disappear. Santana smiles at her before poking her in the stomach with a pen to break her from her daydream.

 

“How ‘bout you?” she asks.

 

Brittany shrugs. “Home time,” she says softly and hates how much she wishes Santana could come with her. “I’m only on call if any of my priority cases come in but that’s about it. I’m off tomorrow too.”

 

Santana’s face changes and Brittany can’t help but hope that she’s disappointed too.

 

“I’ll see you on Friday then?” she says hopefully.

 

Brittany nods and as she plays with her keys, she can’t get over the overwhelming need to just kiss Santana goodbye. It’s all that she wants and it seems to take her forever to gather up the energy to not give in.

 

“Bye then,” she says as she turns away.

 

She hears Santana’s tiny little “bye” all the way back to her car.

 

//

 

Her pager goes off at 1:40am and when she calls the hospital, they tell her that Maura Little, one of her favorite patients, is having contractions.

 

After six years of trying, she’s kind of happy to be woken up in the middle of the night.

 

She’s at the hospital by 2am and it’s practically empty as she arrives at her ward. Maura is smiling and happy and she’s grown huge in the week since Brittany last saw her. She’s smiling and happy and wheeling herself around the room in her wheelchair.

 

“You’re early! You’re not supposed to be here for another two weeks,” Brittany says brightly as she steps into the room. Maura smiles exhaustedly at her and pants through her pain. Brittany reaches forwards to rub her back in support. “You ready to meet your baby?”

 

Maura grins and Brittany can’t help but love her job.

 

//

 

Brittany’s running off adrenaline and happiness at 6am when she finally finishes filling in her patient notes and signing charts. She’s stood at the end of Maura’s bed watching her nursing her son, feeling ridiculously proud of herself for choosing to be a doctor.

 

Maura’s husband is falling asleep in the chair across the room and Maura doesn’t look like she’s going to last much longer either. Brittany steps over to check the machines around her one last time and looks down to see the baby resting against her breast, fast asleep.

 

“I think it’s time we took this little man to the nursery,” she says as she tucks the blankets around the baby’s body more securely. “Say g’night, mama because it’s time to get some rest.”

 

Once she’s sent Maura’s husband home and lifted the baby from her arms, Brittany closes the blinds and tucks Maura into bed as she deliriously thanks her. Brittany shushes her and stays beside her until she falls asleep before quietly leaving the room with the baby in her arms.

 

She’s a little shocked to find Santana in the nursery when she gets there. She can see her, sat in the armchair they keep in the far corner, holding one of the small bundles of blankets, looking exhausted and weary behind her glasses. She looks ridiculously beautiful and Brittany gets stuck staring at her until the baby in her arms fusses and forces her to continue.

 

She leaves Maura’s chart at the nurses’ station and moves over to the door of the nursery. It’s weirdly quiet and Brittany waves off the nurse who tries to help her as she finds an empty bassinet for the baby. She settles him in and then steps over to the other side of the room to where Santana’s dozing off with the baby in her arms.

 

She presses her hand to the back of Santana’s head softly and it starts something pulse in her, how quickly Santana jolts awake at her touch. She glances up at Brittany and looks confused but smiles anyway.

 

“Hi,” Brittany says, kneeling until she’s next to the chair and can see the baby in Santana’s arms. It’s the baby girl they delivered a few days ago but her mom’s sick and has no one else so the chief said that the baby could stay here until she’s better. The urge to ask Santana what she’s doing here disappears because now she knows that Santana’s probably just making sure the baby gets cuddled.

 

“What’re you doing here?” Santana mumbles and Brittany strokes a finger over the baby’s face before shrugging.

 

“Maura Little had her baby boy,” she says and Santana’s eyes light up at her words. She knows that Santana knows who Maura is because she brought her in for a consult when they were still testing the baby to see if he’d be okay. There’s an unspoken question in Santana’s eyes before Brittany gestures behind her. “I just brought him in so that Maura and her husband could get some rest. I thought you were supposed to be in the ER tonight.”

 

Santana looks at her softly. “Sam Evans ended up covering the shift because it would leave him with Mercedes Jones all night and he’s got a major crush on her. I felt sorry for him so I let him have it.”

 

Brittany smiles and rolls her eyes. She keeps that tidbit of information safe in her “bank of things that make Santana special” and watches her as she tries not to fall asleep.

 

“So you’ve just been here cuddling babies all night?” she jokes lightheartedly. “Why didn’t you just go home?”

 

Something washes over Santana’s face and her sleep-pale cheeks suddenly flush with color. “I don’t know,” she whispers. “I just couldn’t sleep. I’m too used to sleeping here with y—”

 

Her words trail off as her face falls in shock of what she just said. She closes her eyes and sighs as her cheeks darken with embarrassment but Brittany just keeps watching her in silent disbelief. Her breath struggles to find it’s way into her lungs and she lifts the baby from Santana’s arms before settling it back into it’s empty bassinet. She pushes the maternity pillow off Santana’s lap onto the floor before reaching for her hands. She helps her onto her feet and then pulls her towards the stairs.

 

When they reach their supply closet, Brittany feels all the tension leave Santana’s body when she wraps her arms around her and kisses her. She sinks into her so softly and she feels so delicate that Brittany doesn’t immediately reach for her shirt like she usually does. She just kisses her and kisses her until Santana pulls away and wraps her arms around her to hug her tightly.

 

The innocence of it makes Brittany’s heart lodge somewhere between her chest and throat and she nudges their noses together before nervously urging Santana to look at her.

 

“Come home with me,” she whispers and tired brown eyes instantly widen and study her carefully. They’ve got that same curiosity and confusion in them and Brittany ignores it as she slips her hands into Santana’s. She feels brave and all she wants is for her to say yes. “Come home with me, Santana.”

 

The confusion slips into shyness seconds later and Santana bites her lip before nodding. Brittany takes her hand and leads her through the hospital to get their things before leading her out to her car.

 

For the first time, they leave the hospital together.

 

//

 

The whole way up to her apartment, all Brittany can think about is whether or not it’s clean inside. She pretty much came in earlier and collapsed into bed, eating a carton of take out lo mein while watching the news, before falling asleep. She didn’t even turn on the lights.

 

Santana doesn’t even look around when they get inside, though. Her eyes remain on Brittany as Brittany wanders around picking up laundry and tossing it into a pile near her bathroom. There’s a pile of dishes in her sink (mostly coffee cups and cereal bowls) but when Santana grabs her by the hand and stops her frantic rush, she forgets about it all.

 

“I…” Santana starts. “I… um… I…”

 

Her brow furrow and seconds later they’re kissing. It’s soft and gentle and Brittany hums in relief at the taste of it. She pulls Santana towards her with a handful of her soft sweater and doesn’t stop until they’re both landing on the bed.

 

It feels strangely nice to finally be on a proper bed big enough for two people. It’s a fleeting thought as Santana kicks off her shoes and starts removing their clothes. Her hands are more sure than Brittany ever remembers them being, her eyes darker and deeper. She kisses her and it feels like she’s trying to tell Brittany something, like there are words on her lips that her tongue can’t find a way to say. Sunlight litters in on them through the crack in Brittany’s drapes and that feels strange too, that they don’t have to hide away anymore. They can do whatever they want to each other, for however long they need to. They have all day with each other.

 

Santana strips her quickly and Brittany doesn’t know if it’s the freedom or if something’s changed but Santana touches her and kisses her with more fervor. She mumbles things into her skin and spends hours and hours exploring her. It feels so good that Brittany almost wants to cry but instead she just pulls Santana to her and makes love to her because that’s the only thing to call it.

 

She’s so tired of hiding and it’s the only thing she wants to do.

 

//

 

She wakes up when the setting sun flickers through the blinds at the other end of the apartment. She’s a little cold and a lot hungry and, when her nose twitches and her bottom lip pouts out, she’s only slightly surprised to feel kisses pressed against the both of them.

 

It makes her aware of the arm wound tight around her waist and the legs tangled with hers. She bites her lip to stave off the oncoming grin but Santana must see it because she hears a giggle a second later as a nose presses against her ear and strokes along her jaw to urge her awake.

 

She feels relaxed and well rested and when her eyes flutter open to find dark brown ones staring right back at her, she feels happy and overwhelmed too. Words fight up her throat and she swallows them away as Santana reaches to map her face with a fingertip. She can feel them right there, ready to be said out loud but she’s scared. She has everything she wants and she’s so scared that it’ll all be taken away.

 

“Santana,” she breathes as she reaches to take her hands away. The touch is too much but Santana shakes her head until their noses bump together, and plays with the soft wispy strands of hair at her hairline instead.

 

Brittany watches her desperately, unsure how to beg her to stop, to never hurt her, to never _leave_ her, once she inevitably lets these words bubble pathetically up her throat and ruin them. It’s almost irritating how Santana just stares at her in awe and smiles.

 

It doesn’t make sense, until—

 

“I’m in love with you,” she whispers so quietly that if Brittany’s nose weren’t pressed to hers, if they weren’t close enough that she practically breathed the words in to her soul, she wouldn’t have heard them. Santana’s face drops in panic and fear and Brittany can’t do anything but watch as her expression falls the more silent Brittany stays. She backpedals quickly. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean—” Her brow furrows and she grips Brittany’s face like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. “Britt…” she finally whispers. “Say something.”

 

Brittany strokes messy hair from beautiful brown eyes and basks in the way that it feels like her heart is finally beating properly.

 

“Tell me again,” she mutters.

 

Santana swallows thickly before nuzzling her nose against Brittany’s and closing her eyes. “I love you,” she says tearfully. “I’m _so_ in love with you and I can’t hide it anymore—I can’t pretend I don’t love you anymore, Britt. I just…”

 

Their mouths press together and Brittany’s sure that it’s the best kiss she’s ever had. She knows what the words are now and she sucks them greedily into her mouth as Santana clings to her and touches her with so much love that she has to tell her.

 

“I love you, too,” she whispers between kisses. “I love you so much.”

 

Santana pulls back, only to search her face for reassurance. She kisses her nose and then nuzzles against it.

 

“That’s good,” she whispers as she pulls the covers around them. “That’s really good.”

  


End file.
